


front row seat

by bunbunjolras



Series: Progression [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Desk Sex, Exhibitionism, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1430374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunbunjolras/pseuds/bunbunjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A laugh and a thud comes from his laptop speakers after a few minutes of silence, and it startles Enjolras so much his papers rustle loudly in his hands and almost mask the soft murmuring coming from the computer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Combeferre and Grantaire get up to some mischief while Enjolras watches, a little shocked and a lot more intrigued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	front row seat

**Author's Note:**

> CLARIFICATION POINT: Grantaire is perfectly aware that this (Enjolras watching them) is something that is going to happen, it's part of a negotiated scene, the reason he's shocked here is that he thinks Combeferre is bluffing or that Enjolras about object. Enjolras is unaware of what's happening, but he is able to put a stop to it at any point by closing the program or shutting his computer.

A laugh and a thud comes from his laptop speakers after a few minutes of silence, and it startles Enjolras so much his papers rustle loudly in his hands and almost mask soft murmuring, and Enjolras clicks through the programs on his laptop quickly to see what’s making the noise until the only one left is the ominous blue S of the Skype icon, and he clicks on it, holding his breath although he doesn’t know why.

On the small window is a slightly grainy image that clarifies when Enjolras enlarges it and closes down some of his other programs, and he can make out Combeferre sitting in the leather chair at his desk, leaning back as he runs his hand up the leg of whoever it is lounging back just out of view. He’s smiling a little and Enjolras watches as he beckons for the other person, a man, to sit up and come closer, and there’s the distant sound of voices and all of a sudden Grantaire is there, he’s the one sitting on the desk. The laptop is a little ways behind him so Enjolras can only see the side of his face from where it is, but he can see that Grantaire is smiling, and for some reason that makes him smile and he watches as Combeferre smirks and beckons him closer still, a finger pressed up under his chin somehow encouraging Grantaire closer to him.

Enjolras has to fight to keep from gasping as he watches them kiss, watches Grantaire melt into it, his face turned more towards the camera now, his eyes fluttering shut, and Combeferre brings a hand up to his waist and Enjolras thinks about ending the call. He and Combeferre had been talking earlier and Enjolras had assumed that his friend would terminate the call, but apparently he hadn’t. He brings the cursor up to the little red button to hang up, but he doesn’t press it.

He doesn’t press it because Combeferre’s fingers slip into the waistband of Grantaire’s pants and he does something that makes the man moan. Enjolras isn’t sure what it is, he’s not quite sure what the noise entails but Grantaire seems to like whatever he’s doing, squirming as he is back against Combeferre’s hands, and Enjolras turns up the volume as much as he can to hear what is being said back in Paris.

“Do you want me to touch you more, baby?” Combeferre purrs, and Enjolras almost slams his laptop shut – what the hell is he listening to?

“Yeah,” Grantaire whimpers, pushing back into Combeferre’s hands. “Yeah, please touch me more.”

Combeferre chuckles and pulls his hands out of Grantaire’s pants to grip his hips and pull him forwards quickly, so as he sits right on the edge of the desk, flopping backwards onto the desk with a thud.

“Silly boy can’t sit up properly on his own,” Combeferre coos, fiddling with Grantaire’s belt buckle and pulling it off. He steps back a little so as he can bring the belt down sharply over Grantaire’s clothed thighs, making him moan and squirm on the desk.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Grantaire mumbles, breathless as Combeferre pulls his pants and boxers down. “I wanna – tell me what to do, ‘Ferre, please?”

He stretches up to kiss Grantaire briefly before he moves back to pull Grantaire’s pants all the way off. “No touching. Shirt,” he says quickly, and there’s a flurry of movement as it was removed, and Combeferre grins broadly down at him. “Now, isn’t that better? I can see all of you now, you look so pretty all needy for me. Tell me what you want, baby, and I might give it to you if you beg well enough.”

Grantaire moans and shudders when Combeferre presses two fingers up against the head his cock and pushes it up against his belly. Enjolras is watching, rapt, as all of this happens, unable to move to turn it off, and he’s running on autopilot as he watches, breathless, his hand creeping up his leg towards where his cock is tenting his pants obscenely. He hopes to god no one walks into his office right now, as he leans back just a little and undoes his pants and slides his hand down his stomach and into his boxers.

“Please fuck me,” Grantaire moans, and he sounds distressed, worked up and about to scream or cry or something, and there’s a whimper as Ferre wraps his hand around his cock and gives it three quick, firm strokes before letting go and watching Grantaire breathe and twitch and reach for his cock and not make it any closer than a few inches, Combeferre’s gaze apparently enough to stop him. “F-Ferre, please fuck me, please touch me, make me come, please, I have to – I’ve been hard all day thinking about this, thinking about when you finish work and I get to be with you.”

“Pinch your nipples and sit still,” Combeferre tells him, gripping his hips and leaning close enough for his breath to ghost over Grantaire’s erection, and every time Grantaire tenses and fidgets and tries to roll his hips his cock moves, straining against his belly at some moments and brushing against Combeferre’s lips at others.

Enjolras can hear him panting, and the end of each exhale comes with a strangled moan or a whimper, and although he can’t see that far up his body – the camera shows up to Grantaire’s ribs where they show through when he pants, but not much higher than that – but Enjolras can tell that he’s pinching his own nipples, probably rolling them between his fingers and god that’s so hot he can’t keep from bucking his hips up and pushing his cock through the ring of his fingers, his other hand coming up to cover his mouth to muffle the moan. Grantaire does stay still, but his legs are taut and he’s trembling ever so slightly, and the effort it takes is obvious.

“Tell me how you want me to fuck you, baby,” Combeferre said in a sweet, calm voice. Enjolras can see his erection from where he’s sitting but his friend is so composed he’s half tempted to believe it’s a trick of the light, that Combeferre is entirely unaffected by all of this. “Use your words, there’s a good boy. I want to make you happy. Don’t you want me to make you happy?”

“Yes,” Grantaire sobs, apparently unable to keep from pushing up against Combeferre now, and Enjolras realises what he’s been doing – his fingers come away from Grantaire’s ass shiny and dripping, and Enjolras wonders, detached and far away as he watches Combeferre make the other man suck them clean, if Grantaire was already like that, already wet and fucked open for this. “Hard, I want it hard, please, please fuck me like you did up at the window.”

Combeferre shared an apartment with Enjolras and Courfeyrac on the second floor of a building that looked out over a busy street, with a large window in the sitting room – a feature of all of the apartments on that side of the building – that made anyone who stood too close to it visible from down on the road. Enjolras had come home one day a few weeks ago to find the curtains, thin and light to let the sunshine through in the day but kept others from seeing in, pulled back for the first time in months, and the glass streaked with something. He’d never been sure what had happened, but he’d closed the curtains and forgot about it until now.

“You didn’t do a good enough job cleaning the windows, you naughty boy,” Combeferre tells him with a faux-stern expression, slapping his hand down on Grantaire’s thigh and making him writhe. “Enjolras and Courfeyrac both noticed, they know what you were up to you filthy little whore, they know you get off on knowing someone’s watching, they know that you came on the windows like an animal who can’t control himself, and they know you can’t even manage the task of clearing up come with your own tongue because you got hard again licking your own filth off of the glass.”

Grantaire sobs and brings one hand down to within millimetres of his cock but somehow has the restraint not to touch, and Enjolras feels like he’s going out of his mind watching – how is he still not touching himself? “Ferre,” Grantaire’s sobbing, his fingers clenching and unclenching right next to his erection, and he’s crying now, taking big gulping gasps of air as he squirms on the table, completely unable to hold still now but apparently not caring. He shuffles down far enough, almost all the way off as Combeferre presses teasing touches to his skin to coax him closer, for Enjolras to see his face, and he looks wrecked. His cheeks are red and his eyes are wet, his face streaked with tears and he can’t stop crying, he’s trembling and making quickly aborted movements to touch himself but still, somehow, not doing it. His cock is leaking precome all over his belly and he looks such a mess, and Enjolras wants to reach forwards to touch him, wants to make him come and gather him up into his arms but he can’t, because he’s so far away and even if he wasn’t it’s because he doesn’t want them to know he’s just moments from coming all over his own hands as he jerks off to the sight of the two of them.

“Roll over,” Combeferre tells him, and Grantaire almost kicks him out of the way to do so, and before long he’s belly-down on the table, cock on the varnished wood and his hips pressed up against the edge. “Good boy. You’re doing really well but I’m going to tell you a secret now.”

Grantaire whined and stopped moving entirely as Combeferre, somehow now without pants, a condom rolled onto his cock too while Enjolras was focussed on Grantaire, gripped his hips to still him and pushed in slowly, listening to Grantaire’s sobs slow and moans take their place. “Tell me,” he whimpers. “Please, please tell me the secret.”

Combeferre waits a few moments after he bottoms out before he starts rolling his hips and thrusting into Grantaire, pushing his hips roughly against the edge of the table and making him arch his back up so as his cock didn’t get trapped with every movement. Grantaire moans with every thud, and the camera shakes as Combeferre fucks him roughly, apparently not really caring for his comfort too much but Grantaire clearly loves this, the way he trembles and moans and laughs breathlessly.

“Tell you a secret,” Combeferre mumbles his voice thick. It might be a trick of the light or the camera but for a second Enjolras is sure Combeferre looks his way, and the next sentence spoken forces him over the edge. “Enjolras is watching you.”

The blond curls forwards over himself as he climaxes, his forehead thudding down onto the laptop’s keyboard hard, and he moans raggedly as his come stains his pants and the hem of his shirt. He looks up just in time to see and hear Grantaire come too, one eye fixed on the camera as Combeferre fucks him through his orgasm, his cock twitching and jerking and leaking without a touch to it, and Enjolras wants to cry it looks so amazing on the screen, and he’d bet it looks even better in real life.

“Enjolras is watching you come like the whore you are while I fuck you,” Combeferre says breathlessly into his ear, clearly chasing his own climax quickly now. “He’s probably thinking you’re disgusting, you’re filthy.” Grantaire shudders and arches back against him, moaning thickly even though he came just a few moments before. His belly is streaked with come and his skin flushed, his gaze unfocussed and his mouth slack as Combeferre kisses the back of his neck. “Such a naughty boy. Wonder if he wants to punish you for messing up his nice clean windows.”

Grantaire is nodding when Enjolras sits up, still breathing heavily, and he wonders if they could hear it. “Put me over his lap, bet he would,” Grantaire mumbles, almost tiredly, and Combeferre is getting close, his breathing coming a bit faster and his eyes falling shut as he bites his lips. “Would you let him fuck me? Would you watch?”

Combeferre came with a low, smooth moan, bowing forwards against Grantaire and mumbling things into his ear. “Of course I’d watch. You’re mine.”

“All yours,” Grantaire murmurs, before turning his gaze to the camera for a few moments. “Pull out slow, please.”

Combeferre complies and moves slowly to retreat, and when Grantaire leans back Enjolras can see the red marks on his hips that would soon be bruises, and he bites his lip and makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

He has to try this, he has to make Grantaire squirm and mewl beneath him just like he has to be pinned underneath Combeferre’s weight like that. Suddenly, he can’t wait to get home.

“Thanks for watching,” Combeferre tells him with a wink, before shutting his laptop.

**Author's Note:**

> come see me on tumblr my url is puppytaire


End file.
